


loving is easy

by ohmygodwhy



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Dialogue Heavy, Multi, Power Outage, Summer Teen Hijinks, archie has a big heart, au: no serial killer black hood rival gang bs, how come there's no 'washing a car' tag, subtle jarchie hints
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-28
Updated: 2018-07-28
Packaged: 2019-06-16 20:09:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15444873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohmygodwhy/pseuds/ohmygodwhy
Summary: The living room fan isn’t on. He doesn’t hear the sound of the AC running. The lights won’t work. The glowing numbers of the clock on the oven aren’t even there.“Is this an episode of the twilight zone?” Archie asks.(The whole town’s power goes out, Fred’s truck finally gets washed, and heat really does bring people together.)





	loving is easy

**Author's Note:**

> probably the most wholesome angst-free thing ive ever written for rd. inspired by my power going out in the middle of 100+ degree weather last week! idk when this is set? probably an au where none of the serial killer murder mystery shit ever happened and they’re all just teens like…….living teen lives lmao

 

Archie wakes up sweating.

The first thing he thinks is: I can feel the sheets sticking to my back.

His second thought is: did I turn my fan off during the night?

He rubs at his eyes, pushes himself up with all his strength, and reaches blindly for the light switch. He flicks the switch for the fan.

Nothing happens.

Confusion waking him up a little bit, he opens his eyes. It’s set to off, so of course it didn’t work. He flicks it on, and glances at the ceiling. Nothing. Off, and on, and off and on again. The fan doesn’t move, staring down at him and his sweaty sheets.

A little afraid, now, he moves to the light switch. Carefully, he turns it on.

Nothing. His heart sinks.

Quickly, he stumbles out of bed and pulls a shirt over his head. Yanks his door open, runs down the stairs two at a time, and freezes. His dad glances up at him, leaning over the counter in the kitchen.

The living room fan isn’t on. He doesn’t hear the sound of the AC running. The lights won’t work. The glowing numbers of the clock on the _oven_ aren’t even there.

“Is this an episode of the twilight zone?” Archie asks.

His dad, for all that he loves him, just laughs.

“No,” he says, “The power’s out.”

Archie’s stomach does that thing it only does when his worst fears come true, like that time he sprained his ankle wakeboarding on the lake the day before a big game, or Jug falling out of his old treehouse even though he said he wouldn’t.

“It was like two hundred degrees out yesterday,” Archie says, voice shaking, “The power can’t be out.”

Dad just shrugs, like this isn’t the worst thing to happen since last summer, “Afraid it is, Arch. It’s gone out before, I’m sure you’ll live.”

“I was gonna play Mario Cart with Jug later,” he stresses. “I had a strategy. I was finally gonna beat him.”

“If your strategy involved elbowing him right before he wins, I gotta warn you, he’s fast when he wants to be.”

“That wasn’t my strategy,” he lies. Dad gives him a look. “That wasn’t my whole strategy. Plan A was distracting him with Lays.”

“That one might work. But it would also be cheating, which doesn’t actually count as winning.” he points out, “It’s probably good you have more time to brainstorm.”

Archie blinks at him. No sympathy, he thinks, not even from his own father.

“What’re you making for breakfast?” He asks instead.

“I was gonna make pancakes, but the griddle’s obviously not working. So, cereal.”

“Isn’t the milk all warm now?”

Dad shakes his head, “As long as you don’t open it too much, fridge keeps the cool air in and the hot air out. Which means,” he says pointedly, “No staring at the food for two minutes and then leaving twelve times today.”

Archie laughs. “I don’t do it that much.”

Dad smiles, “I’m gonna count someday, and I’m sure it’ll reach at least eight times.”

“Five,” Archie counters, pulling a bowl from the cabinet.

“Seven,” Dad argues, reaching for his hat, and the bag he takes to work.

Archie blanches.

“You’re going to _work?_ Right now?”  
  
Dad smiles bemusedly, “It’s not like the guys carry a walking AC unit with them when they work. And the office’s is spotty at best.”  
  
“Yeah, but, it’s way worse today than it was yesterday.”  
  
“And it might be worse tomorrow than it is today. Grind doesn’t stop because the sun decides to come out, Arch.”  
  
All Archie can do is shake his head, “You’re crazy, dad.”  
  
“I take it you’re not coming to work today, then?”  
  
Fear shoots through his veins, “Please don’t make me work today. Please.”  
  
Dad laughs at him. “I should, but I know you’d complain your way through it.”

Archie doesn’t disagree. “What am I supposed to do all day without any electricity or anything?”

Dad throws the bag over his shoulder, “You could wash the truck.”

“Aren’t you taking it to work?”

“Nah, FP’s picking me up.”

“Oh,” he says, the idea of Jughead’s dad back out of prison and holding a job again still a little weird. ‘Specially at the construction business. “It’s too hot to wash a car.”

Dad shrugs, “My dad made me wash his car on power outage days. It was actually pretty refreshing.”

Archie makes a disbelieving noise.

Dad huffs a fond laugh, “Well, if you find the time today, I’d really appreciate it. See you later, Arch.”

“See you,” Archie waves. The door swings shut behind his dad, and he sighs. Wash a car? In this weather? In this state of mind? He thinks about his grandpa making Dad wash his car out in the summer heat and shudders. Grandpa always had been a little strict.

Pushing the idea from his mind, even if it makes him feel a little guilty, he pours out some cereal instead. Fills the bowl up all the way, pours enough milk that it almost overflows, and stuffs the milk back into the fridge as quick as he can so he doesn’t let too much cool air out.

The power went off during the night, obviously, but it must have gone off a little closer to morning time, because the house still hadn’t lost all of its cool air. Residual AC. Don’t open any windows, he tells himself. Maybe if he stays still enough, he can make it last all day.

He’s halfway through his bowl of Lucky Charms when his phone rings.

It startles him a little bit, with how quiet the house had gotten, and he scrambles for it. Veronica’s face lights up the screen. She looks great in that picture, he thinks absently, like he does every time he gets a call from her. Thank god he charged his phone overnight, because his charger wouldn’t work now. He puts the phone up to his ear.

“Hello?”

“Archie,” Veronica answers, “Something horrible is happening.”

“Is your power out, too?” he asks.

“ _Your_ power’s out?” she makes a disbelieving noise, “I was gonna escape the heat with the power of your plastic little fan!”

“Well, the fan’s not working,” he says apologetically, “Sorry. Doesn’t your apartment have like, a backup generator or something?” expensive buildings have that kind of thing, don’t they?

The phone crackles a little bit, like it’s balanced on her shoulder and she’s shaking her head. “The power line across the street is down. Must’ve taken the whole town’s electricity with it.”

The whole town, he thinks, heart sinking in despair. That means no AC anywhere.

“Even Pop’s?” he asks.

Veronica pauses. “I’m not sure, actually. Gimme a sec.”

There’s another pause. The sound of a phone dialing, and ringing, and ringing.

“Hello?” Jughead’s voice says. Archie blinks. He didn’t even know you could connect another call on a cellphone.

“Hi,” Ronnie says, “Is the power out at Pop’s?”

Jughead makes a sound like he’s dying. Archie takes that as a yes.

“God,” Ronnie says, “It really is out everywhere.”

“Everywhere?” Jughead asks, “Even at your fancy hotel?”

Archie can feel Veronica roll her eyes, the very same kind that won him over the first time he saw it. “This is a tiny town, it’s not a five-star resort. But yes. I take it that means it’s out at your place, too?”

Jughead hums vaguely, “Yeah, it always goes out at the trailer, though. We have shitty service. But Pop’s! God, all the ice cream in the freezer!”

“Tell him to open it as little as possible,” Archie suggests, like his dad had told him. He doesn’t doubt that his friend is still at the diner.

A little bit of shuffling, some faint voices. “Pop says he wasn’t born yesterday, and this isn’t the first power outage he’s lived through,” Jughead reports back.

Veronica makes a disgusted noise. “Does this happen often?”

“Not in a few years,” Archie says, “I don’t think it’s ever been the whole town at once.”

“One time in middle school,” Jughead says, “A storm blew the power line near Archie’s house out, and he cried ‘cause he couldn’t finish the movie he was watching.”

“What movie was it?” Ronnie asks over Archie’s indignant sputter.

“How The Grinch Stole Christmas.”

“Was it in the winter?”

“No,” Jughead says, and then laughs.

“I’ll hang up on both of you,” Archie threatens when Ronnie laughs too.

“Don’t,” she says, “I think it’s cute.”

Archie flushes, even though he can’t see her. It makes him feel even hotter than he already is. “Why’d this have to happen during the summer?” he complains, just to change the subject.

“I dunno, I think I’d rather be hot than freezing cold,” Jughead says.

“At least when it’s cold you can just put on a jacket,” Ronnie disagrees, “What are you supposed to do when you’re hot? You can’t like, take your skin off.”

Archie shudders at the thought, “You can always go swimming.”

“Or popsicles,” Jughead adds.

“Popsicles melt,” Ronnie points out.

“Not if you eat them fast enough.”

“They only make your mouth cold.”

“Obviously you’ve never been hot enough,” Jughead says, “You know when you’re super cold and you drink like, hot chocolate or something and you can feel it go down your throat and heat your stomach up or whatever? It’s like that, but the opposite.”

Ronnie hums in consideration. “Alright, I can buy that.”

“Wouldn’t popsicles just melt right now?” Archie points out.

“Not if you eat them fast enough!” Jughead repeats.

“Not a single freezer in town is working.”

“…Oh. Good point.”

Ronnie sighs, “The pool at the school is closed right now, too,” she says sadly. “And we only have a hot tub at the apartment.”

“I do not wanna sit in hot water at the moment,” Jughead says.

There’s a long moment where none of them speak, just join in a moment of silence for all the popsicles melting all over town, and the hot tub no one will use till at least fall.

“The water’s still running,” Archie offers eventually, “There’s always the hose.”

Veronica makes a disgusted noise. “I’m not getting sprayed with hose water. Not now and not ever.”

“Do you guys not have hoses in New York, or what?” Jughead asks.

“We had one in the garden, I guess.”

“Garden? In NYC?”

“We didn’t live in an apartment,” Ronnie says, exasperated, “And it was an indoor garden, in the courtyard.”

“The courtyard,” Jughead repeats, “The courtyard in your house.”

“It was a very nice courtyard,” Ronnie says, all poised dignity.

“I bet,” Jughead says, but he doesn’t sound mean about it, which is good. It’s kind of a sore spot for her, how different her upbringing was from all of theirs. Archie can’t imagine what it must have been like, growing up in a house with its own courtyard in the middle of it. “It sounds like it could rival Gatsby’s.”

Ronnie laughs, the way she does when they trade weird pop culture references Archie half-gets. Great Gatsby, he thinks. He read that in school freshman year. Lots of parties, lots of stalker-like unrequited love.

“It would leave that poor man shaking,” she says.

“Anyway,” Archie cuts in, before they can move on to something he doesn’t understand at all, “the hose.”

“No hose, Archie,” Ronnie says in that voice that means it’s final.

He sighs. “Fine.”

“The water’d probably be hot, anyways,” Jughead offers in consolation.” and then, a moment later, “Holy shit.”

“Holy shit what?” Archie asks.

“God, I’m thriving.”

“Thriving off what?”

“Pop’s giving out free milkshakes so he doesn’t waste the ice cream,” he sounds like he’s seen God or something. Archie feels like he’s just been blessed - ice cream in the middle of this hell - so he can’t really judge him. Ronnie makes a hopeful sound. “You guys have to get over here quick, I don’t know how long they’ll last.”

“News does travel fast,” Ronnie agrees. “Pick me up, Archie?”

“Yeah, for sure,” he says, already up and grabbing the keys. “On my way.”

“Save some milkshake for us, Jug,” she says.

“No promises,” he answers.

She laughs, and hangs up.

 

Archie drops by Betty’s on the way, to see if she wants to come with. When he says the word ice cream, she’s already on her feet.

“Where’s your mom?” He asks as she closes the car door behind her.

Betty shrugs, “I think she went to go talk to the mayor.”

“About the power outage?”

“Probably,” she laughs a little, “I wouldn’t be surprised if she fixed it with sheer force of will.”

Archie lets himself huff a laugh or two. Betty’s relationship with her mom has always been a little rocky, but they seem to be alright lately. He’s glad. He hates seeing people at odds with people they love.

They pull up to Veronica’s hotel, and she appears a moment later, looking somehow stylish even in a hundred degree weather.

“You wouldn’t believe how much I’m sweating under all this makeup,” she says, “I think my mascara might run.”

“How did you put on makeup in this heat?” Betty asks, climbing out of the car to let Veronica sit in the passenger's seat. She’s nice like that.

“Willpower,” she answers.

“I think you look great,” Archie says honestly.

“Thanks, Arch,” she says, and pecks him on the cheek. “I think you look rugged and handsome. Like a cowboy or something.”

“I don’t have cowboy hat,” he points out, shifting the gear to drive and pulling into the street, “Or boots or anything.”

“Yeah, but you have the aura. Like, the sweaty wild wild west kind of vibe.”

“Like the song?”

Veronica snorts delicately. “I mean, you also kinda look like a construction worker. But a hot one. Or a plumber.”

Archie flushes, and Betty laughs in the backseat.

“A plumber?” Jughead asks about ten minutes later. The place is packed. They’re lucky Jug was here early enough to claim their usual booth, because news really does travel fast. There’re even a few serpents here— Jug had been talking to Toni when they came in, Cheryl hovering just next to her, which made an odd little trio.

“Like the young ones in movies who come and fix your sink.” Ronnie specifies.

“What kind of _movies_ are we talking about?” Reggie asks, leaning over from the booth behind the one Jug’s been spreading out on.

“Ones no one asked you about,” Ronnie says nicely. Reggie rolls his eyes, but turns back to Moose.

“That shit doesn’t happen in real life,” Jug says, ignoring the exchange entirely.

“Maybe not here, but New York’s a whole other world.”

“Who the hell can make an actual living off being a plumber in New York.”

“I don’t look like a plumber,” Archie cuts in, because he wants this conversation to be over. He didn’t come here to be compared to Mario.

Like Jug can just read his goddamn mind, he looks him up and down and says, “I dunno, if you lost the red hair I think you and Mario could be related.”

Archie hears Reggie laugh. At something Jughead said, and Jughead doesn’t even call him out on it. Maybe this really is the twilight zone. Either way, he gives up.

“I’m getting my milkshake,” he says to the group at large, and turns on his heel to walk away.

It really is packed in here. There’s always someone at Pop’s no matter what time of the day or night it is, but it hasn’t been this crowded in a while. He’s put a few self-powering fans up on the counter, so it’s just a little bit cooler than outside, and he’s giving out free ice cream, so that’s probably why.

“Can I get strawberry?” He asks.

“I’m almost out,” Pop says with that old smile he always gives when he’s talking to kids, “But I saved some just for you.”

Archie could cry, he’s so grateful.

“Never would’ve pegged you for a strawberry man,” Toni says, and Archie would’ve jumped out of his skin if he didn’t see her sitting at the counter when he walked up.

“He prob’ly likes them ‘cause they match his hair,” Sweet Pea says from behind her. He doesn’t even have to lean back to say it, he’s so tall, can just look right over her head.

She rolls his eyes, “No they don’t.” And then, sincere in a way that reminds him of Jug making fun of him, “I think strawberry’s a great flavor. More interesting than vanilla.”

Sweet Pea makes an offended sound, “Vanilla’s not boring, it’s simple. It’s _tasteful_ , Toni.”

“Tasteful, boring, same thing.” She teases, winking at Archie. He’s always liked Toni; she says what she thinks and doesn’t take anyone’s shit, including her friends’.

“You only like strawberries ‘cause they remind you of Cheryl.” Sweet Pea says.

Toni smiles, unashamed, “Yes I do.”

“Where is Cheryl, anyway?” He asks, noticing the empty seat next to Toni. “I saw her when I walked in.”

“Bathroom. Or she’s talking to Josie about some school thing; I think she wants to have some kind of fundraiser when school starts again.”

“What kinda fundraiser?”

“Dunno. Something for the kids who can’t afford the AP tests or something,” she smiles wryly, “Definitely involving cheerleading. Maybe The Pussycats, too, we’ll see.”

“Wow, that’s cool of her,” he says.

“Yeah,” Toni agrees quietly, “She really is nicer than people think. I mentioned that they didn’t have AP at my old school, and she got super heated about it, like it was slighting her personally. She said she’s never had to really think about stuff like that — y’know, not being able to do something you need to because of the cost — until now, so she wants to do something to help.”

She says it very softly, and fondly, and Archie feels some kind of residual happiness from her tone. They really do seem to like each other.

“She’s also in love with Toni,” Sweet Pea adds irreverently, but he doesn’t sound mean.

“You guys seem really good for each other,” Archie says, ignoring him.

Toni smiles, “Thanks, Andrews. Your shake’s been sitting there for a while now, by the way.”

He glances over and yeah, it’s just sitting there in front of him. Pop really does work magic. He calls a thank you, and gets a thumbs up.

“Thanks,” he says to Toni, and she smiles around her straw.

“See ya, strawberry,” she says.

He walks away ignoring Sweet Pea’s laughter.

“Listen,” Jughead says when he slides back into the booth, strawberry shake in hand. “I don’t think you look like Mario. I promise.”

Archie rolls his eyes, but can’t stop himself from smiling at how mock-serious he sounds. “Thanks, Jug,” he says, and Jug gives him a thumbs up.

“What number are you on?” Betty asks, glancing down at the half-empty glass on the table in front of him.

“This is shake number four,” he says proudly. Nobody is surprised, except for maybe Ronnie, who raised her eyebrows just a fraction.

“You’re gonna make yourself sick,” she says.

Jughead just shrugs, “It’s free, and it’s cold, and I’m hungry. I’m gonna take as much as I can get.”

“Yeah, that’s fair.”

Jughead opens his mouth to say something else, but Kevin slides into the booth next to Veronica. Who shoves him off, because it’s too hot to be so squished together, and tells him to pull up a chair. Kevin pulls up a chair.

“Hear about the power outage?” he asks unnecessarily.

“Why do you think the whole town’s in here?” Jug answers.

Kevin looks at him, and mouth drops open in disgust. “What are you _wearing?”_

Archie glances down at Jughead’s shirt. He honestly hadn’t even noticed anything about it, other than the off-orange and the sleeves that looked like they’d been cut off recently. Betty giggles behind her hand.

“What about it?” Jug asks.

“Did you cut the sleeves off?”

“It was long-sleeved, and it’s hot outside!”

“So put on a different shirt?”

“I didn’t want to.”

“Jesus,” Kevin mumbles, like he’s personally offended. Jug takes a long sip of his fourth milkshake and shrugs.

“No one’s asking why you’re wearing cut-off jean shorts,” Veronica says, swooping in to save what’s left of Jughead’s dignity. He shoots her an amused smile.

Kevin scoffs. “It’s hot out, and these are professionally cut.”

“You mean you bought them that way.”

“Yeah, exactly.”

Jug huffs a laugh. “I’m over here, saving money. DIY-ing and shit.”

Kevin rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling a little. “Anyway,” he says, “This outage is driving people nuts. The phones at the station are ringing nonstop.”

“It’s hot,” Ronnie says, “People wanna be cool.”

“Was it a powerline that took it out?” Archie asks, remembering what Ronnie said on the phone earlier.

Kevin nods, “Yeah, a big one at the center of town. They’re not sure what busted it yet, but it took out the whole grid. Dad said they’re fixing it as fast as they can, but it’ll probably take most of the day. Maybe all of it.”

There’s a collective groan throughout the diner.

“All _day?”_ Reggie asks from the booth behind them, at the same time Cheryl says, “You’re kidding,” from across the room.

Archie wonders vaguely if everyone was somehow listening in on the conversation, or if they just talk that loud. He guesses everyone just hears everything when they’re all this packed together.

“They’re working as fast as they can,” Kevin repeats, unperturbed, “But yeah, all day.”

Jughead’s collapsed back in his seat, arm thrown dramatically over his face. Ronnie looks like she wants to do the same but has too much dignity. Archie feels his body temperature somehow rise higher, knowing he’s gonna be stuck this hot for the foreseeable future.

“We have to find something to do,” Kevin says, turning back to the table, “It’s gonna be a long day.”

“Ugh, I wish the drive-in still existed.” Jughead says, not bothering to sit up again.

“We’d still be hot.” Kevin says.

“Yeah, but at least we’d be watching a movie. The projector didn’t need electricity to work, either.”

“We’d still be hot, though.”

“But we’d have entertainment! And we could wait till it got dark.”

“It won’t get dark for another,” Ronnie glances at the clock on the far wall, “Ten hours. What the hell are we supposed to do until then?”

Jughead just shrugs, and takes a long sip of his milkshake. “I say just wait it out.”

“You wanna sit here for ten more hours?”

Jug shrugs again. “I don’t wanna be outside.”

Veronica makes an exasperated sound, “See, if it was cold we could just go sit by the fireplace and tell stories or something! There’s nothing you can in the heat without AC.”

“Swimming,” Kevin says, like it’s obvious.

Ronnie shake her head, “We already discussed this — the school pool’s closed, and my hotel only has a hot tub.”

“Reggie has a pool,” he says, lowering his voice when he says it, probably so Reggie won’t overhear and assume he’s part of the conversation.

“How do you know that?” Ronnie asks, quirking a perfect eyebrow. God, Archie loves it when she does that.

“Moose invited me over a couple times, what about it?” he answers quickly.

Ronnie looks scandalized. “And you told me you weren’t into him.”

“I’m not!” he says, glancing at Betty for support, who quickly looks out the window instead.

Veronica turns to Betty, too, looking more and more offended by the second, “You knew? And you didn’t tell me?”

“Kev didn’t want anyone to know,” she defends.

“Yeah, so you like, keep it down?” Kevin whispers, “He’s sitting right behind us.”

Jughead snorts around his straw, eyes bouncing back and forth between the three of them. He quirks an eyebrow at Archie, a spitting image of Ronnie not thirty seconds ago. The similarity hits him like whiplash. Maybe he has a type. He shrugs back subtly to save face. Jug smiles.

“I can’t believe this,” Ronnie is still saying, shaking her head like Dad when Archie comes home later than he promised, all disappointed. “I thought you and Serpent kid were getting down.”

“Who, Fangs?” Jug asks.

“Yeah. They worked on the musical together. He drank Kevin’s tea and everything.”

Kevin crosses his arms and sits back in his seat, looking a little embarrassed. “We weren’t _getting down_. He’s a nice guy, that’s it.”

“Sweet Pea told me he caught you two making out in the locker room,” Jughead says, completely void of all shame of sympathy.

Ronnie gasps, again. “No one tells me anything!” she says, at the same time Kevin whispers, “That was one time! Besides, I thought Sweet Pea had for a thing for him.”

Jughead nods vaguely, “Yeah, probably.”

“Exactly, so, I didn’t wanna jeopardize that.”

“It’s cool, there’s no judgement here.”

Kevin frowns. “I’m feeling pretty judged right now.”

“I’m not judging,” Veronica says, “I used to get into way messier stuff. I’m just sad you didn’t tell me.”

“I’m sorry,” Kevin sighs, and he really does sound sorry, “It’s just all been happening so fast.”

“Honestly, I’m kinda surprised you didn’t figure it out yourself,” Betty says, and Jughead tilts his head in agreement.

“Yeah, I’m kinda surprised, too,” Ronnie admits, “I’ve just been off my game lately. The heat really does get to you.”

She catches Archie’s eye and smiles in that way that always makes his heart all warm, like hot chocolate or something. Ooh, hot chocolate as a metaphor for love, he thinks. He could put that in a song. He’ll have to run it by Jug later, to make sure it doesn’t sound stupid out loud.

“Anyway,” she says after a few moments of quiet group-recollection, “I’m not swimming in a pool Kev and Moose probably banged in, so that’s out.”

Kevin just takes a long sip of his milkshake, and doesn’t deny it.

“So no swimming,” Betty says, “And no drive-in.”

“Not that it was ever really an option,” Jughead adds sadly.

“I still refuse to just sit here all day. And I don’t plan on starting my summer reading until at least late July.”

There’s a moment of silence, where everyone takes a collective sip of their milkshakes. Archie thinks about his dad, and how dirty the truck windows are and… does he want to risk it? He thinks about sitting in this booth all day because they have nothing better to do, and how happy his dad would be if he came home to a clean truck.

“We could wash my dad’s car,” Archie offers tentatively.

“What’d I say about not going outside,” Jug immediately shoots him down.

“My dad told me he washed _his_ dad’s car when his power went out, and it helped him cool off.”

“Yeah but that was like thirty years ago. I think it’s hotter now than it was then because of global warming or something, right?” He glances at Ronnie and Betty.

Ronnie shrugs, “My dad thinks global warming is fake.”

Jughead chokes on his milkshake, “Your dad thinks _what?_ ” He asks, sounding shocked and utterly delighted.

“He says it’s a ploy to tax the rich or something.” She pauses, “Obviously I don’t agree. I’ve seen enough documentaries.”

“A ploy to tax the rich! That’s incredible. How does he explain the melting ice caps?”

It’s the same energy he gave off when he found out Archie thought chocolate fountains only existed in movies or Reggie always brushed his teeth before a football game, like it was the best thing he’d ever heard in his life.

Ronnie rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling a bit. She’s definitely not at defensive over her dad and his antics than she was when he first met her.

“Obviously he doesn’t think they’re actually melting.”

“Can’t he just fly out there and see for himself?”

“Sure, but he’s never gonna do that. He hates being wrong about things.”

“That’s fair,” Jug says, even though it’s really not. He twists backwards in his seat and says “Hey, Reggie. Do you think global warming’s a thing?"

Reggie twists backwards in his own seat and says “I’m not stupid. Global warming’s been a thing since we started polluting the atmosphere in the Industrial Age.”

Archie’s kind of impressed with the specific knowledge.

“Don’t you drive a fancy sports car,” Jughead says.

“Um, an eco-friendly sports car.”

“Didn’t know that was a thing.”

“Well, it is,” he looks very proud of himself, “Unlike motorcycles, they don’t give off a bunch of exhaust and smoke and shit.”

Jughead nods in acknowledgment. “I kinda feel like you’re making that up, but I’ll go with it.”

“I don’t make shit up about the environment.”

“You should start a club or something,” Kevin remarks, seeming incredibly interested in the back and forth.

Reggie looks thoughtful for a minute. “Maybe I will. I can show all you losers how to make the world a better place, Reggie style.”

“Can’t wait,” Jughead says. Archie really can’t tell if he’s being sarcastic or not. The heat really does change people.

“Also, if you wanna wash a car today, wear some goddamn sunscreen. I don’t want Archie to walk into school in August looking like a fire truck.”

Archie sputters. “My sunburns don’t last _that_ long.”

“Were you eavesdropping?” Ronnie asks, mock-scandalized.

“No. You all just talk really loud.”

Archie guesses that answers his question from earlier.

“I’m just surprised _you_ stopped talking long enough to listen,” Jughead says, which is on par with the usual. Reggie goes to swat at him, and Jug ducks away, and that’s the end of that. It brings a little stability back into his life.

Veronica is staring out the window, lips pulled into a frown. “It is really dirty, now that I look at it.”

She’s staring at the truck, Archie realizes, and bites back a laugh.

“Ronnie,” Jughead pleads, “Don’t say it.”

Ronnie turns back to them, face set. “I think we should wash the car,” she says in that voice that offers no argument. Archie could melt if he wasn’t already.

“Really?” Kevin asks, “You wanna wash a car?”

Ronnie shrugs, “Someone’s gotta do it. Besides, Archie’s dad said it helped him cool off.”

“That was like thirty years ago,” Jughead repeats, but Ronnie makes a series of shushing sounds to cut off his global warming defense.

“I think it’ll be fun,” Betty offers, “I haven’t washed a car in years.”

“I’ve never washed a car at all,” Ronnie says, smiling, “I wanna try it out.”

Archie smiles, because Ronnie’s smile always makes him smile, too.

“You’re gonna burn, Arch,” is Jug’s last shot, but he sounds resigned to it at this point. There’s not much that can stop Ronnie from getting what she wants, and while Jug’s stubbornness is a good match, it’s not one of them.

“I’ll wear sunscreen,” Archie says. Reggie laughs, Veronica beams, and Jug rolls his eyes so hard Archie’s surprised it doesn’t make his head hurt.

 

It takes a solid eight minutes to find the sunscreen. It’s hidden in the back of the kitchen cabinet they use for stuff like extra light bulbs and sunscreen, apparently. Archie lathers it on.

“You’re supposed to wait thirty minutes before exposing yourself to the sun,” Jughead points out, “Y’know, to let it set in.”

Betty and Kevin are busy pulling the hose from the back yard to the front yard, Ronnie happily supervising. He can see them from the back kitchen window. Kevin looks like he’s complaining, but he’s not giving up.

Archie shrugs. “I never wait thirty minutes.”

“Which is why you burn all the time.”

Okay, those two things might have a slight correlation. Not that he’s gonna admit defeat. “I don’t burn all the time,” he says. Jug raises an eyebrow at him and okay, he’s admitting defeat. Jug’s eyebrow raise could probably make a grown man self conscious; it might be on par with Veronica’s eye roll. “Maybe there’s a correlation. But thirty minutes is way too long. My dad gets home from work soon.”

“Your dad doesn’t get home for like five more hours. You’re gonna give yourself skin cancer.”

“You’re so dramatic,” Archie says.

“I’m realistic,” Jug counters, “One of us has to be.”

“Realistic,” he repeats, “Realistic like the time you told me the government was after you?”

“First, I was eight. Second, that’s one hundred percent realistic. The government is always after you.”

“Okay, Mister X-Files.”

Jug laughs, shoving him in the shoulder and swiping the sunscreen from his hands. Archie smiles; he likes making Jug laugh.

Jug dabs some sunscreen on the tip of his nose, and says, “Let’s go wash a truck, I guess.”

They find sponges, buckets, and car wash detergent that obviously hasn’t been opened in a while. Jug grabs some towels from the kitchen on their way out, and the little bluetooth speaker Archie keeps in the garage.

“I’m not cleaning in heat _and_ silence,” he says when Archie notices.

“We’re not listening to weird shit,” Archie warns.

“We’re not listening to your music, either. You have weird taste.”

“I’m choosing the music,” Kevin says, showing up and snatching the speaker from Jug’s hands.

“Ugh, Kev, you’re just gonna turn on the top fifty or something.”

“I’m not listening to eighties pop and weird indie shit for an hour!”

“That’s not all I listen to.”

“We should take turns,” Betty suggests, dragging the hose over to the buckets.

“Yeah, queue it up,” Ronnie agrees.

Kevin frowns, but relents. “Fine. But I’m going first. And we’re not listening to Drake.”

They pass Kevin’s phone in a circle, taking turns queueing up songs. Archie’s actually kind of excited to hear the variety in everyone’s taste. He’s used to hearing them all separately, but not all at once. It’s the little things, he guesses.

Kevin kicks it off with some current top fifty song (“I told you,” Jug says), and they get going.

Betty fills up the buckets with water, Archie mixes in the detergent, and everyone grabs a sponge.

“I’m gonna get soaked, aren’t I,” Ronnie says more than asks, and Betty just laughs.

“It’s fun,” she says, “I promise.”

Jug sighs dramatically, plopping his wet sponge on the hood of the car. “To think, I passed up the quarry for this.”

While everyone was busy finishing up their milkshakes, Sweet Pea had planted his ass on their table, leaned over, said they were going down to the quarry to swim and asked if Jug wanted to come. For a moment, it looked like he wanted to say yes, but he caught Archie’s eye, smiled a little, and said sorry, I’ve got a car to wash. Sweet Pea has rolled his eyes and said have fun, then, all sarcastic, but didn’t push it. Actually wished them luck, without tracking anything scathing onto the end. Heat really did change people, Archie had thought.

“The quarry’s probably nasty this time of year anyway,” Ronnie says, dipping her sponge delicately into the bucket.

“It’s better than it is in the winter,” Jug says, but he’s smiling, so no one takes him all that seriously.

It’s still so _so_ hot outside — Archie’s shirt is already sticking to his body — but it isn’t horrible. Jug takes the hood, Kevin takes the trunk, leaving he, Ronnie and Betty with the doors and windows. He really hasn’t washed a car in forever, he thinks, scrubbing at this speck of dirt determined to stay stuck to the driver’s side window.

Something familiar and eighties is playing in the background, Archie is focusing on the window, and somebody sprays him in the face. He recoils and scrubs the water out of his eyes. When he looks up, Jughead is holding the hose, and smiling something wicked.

There’s a moment or two where Archie contemplates. Takes account of his surroundings. He lunges. Jug ducks out of the way, so he just throws his sponge at him, and it hits him square in the chest. Betty shoves him when he tries to hide behind her, and Jug turns the hose on her in retaliation.

“Jug!” she screeches, laughing. Archie takes advantage of his moment of weakness, and grabs him. The front of his shirt is soaked through, and he feels it soak through the back of Jughead’s.

“Ronnie!” He calls, “Get a bucket!”

“Don’t you dare!” Jug yells, struggling half-heartedly, but he’s laughing a little. He knows exactly what he did, Archie thinks.

It’s a joint effort, but Veronica drags over the heaviest bucket, lifts it up, and just completely fuckin drenches Jug in soapy water, laughing delightedly.

It devolves from there.

Kevin gets dragged into it despite how much he complains about his hair, Jug has full control of the hose and refuses to let go, and Archie’s having the time of his life. It reminds him a little of middle school dodgeball, with a little water balloon fight energy mixed into it. Plus a hose. Also, Veronica is an amazing shot.

“Did you play baseball or something?” Jug asks, breathless, after watching her hit Kevin square in the face with a sponge, getting detergent directly in his hair.

Ronnie laughs, “No, but I was killer at dodgeball.”

Archie truly does feel his heart melt. More than it probably is already, the sun still bearing down on them. It’s not high in the sky anymore, which means it’s past noon. They’ve been out here for a while now, he thinks, surprised. Doesn’t think about it anymore, because he gets sprayed in the back.

“Stop daydreaming,” Jug laughs. His hair drips down into his face, but he looks content as anything. He knew exactly what he was doing, Archie thinks for the second time, more fondly than before; Jug always knows exactly what he’s doing, even if he acts clueless half the time. None of them feel all that hot anymore, not matter how heavy the sun shines.

They do actually _wash the car,_ eventually, all of them still soaking wet. Betty has soap suds in her ponytail as she cleans the rear view mirrors. Jug scrubs at the hub caps on the tires like they’ve personally insulted him. Ronnie takes extra care to wash behind the door handles. By the time FP’s truck rolls up to the house, they’re rinsing it down and getting ready to dry it off.

Dad beams at them when he gets out of the truck. “She looks brand new,” he says, and Archie knows he means it. “The driveway looks like it rained, though.”

“Why the hell are you dripping wet?” FP calls, leaning halfway out the window instead of getting out like a normal person, because Jug had to inherit all his dramatics from somewhere.

“It’s hot!” Jug yells back.

“But it helped you cool off, didn’t it?” Dad asks, even though he already knows the answer.

“ _Maybe_ you were right,” Archie admits.

Dad laughs and ruffles his wet hair. “You really did do a great job, kids. I’m impressed.”

“Thank you,” Ronnie says, doing that little bow-nod thing she does sometimes. He can imagine her greeting famous people in New York like that.

“Impressed enough for a reward?” Jug asks innocently.

Dad raises his eyebrows. “What, like the popsicles I have in the ice chest in the back?”

“Ice chest?” Archie asks, at nearly the same time Jug asks “Popsicles?”

Dad smiles all amused, “Arch didn’t tell you about the popsicles?”

“I didn’t even know about the popsicles!”

Jug is already walking away, finally letting go of the hose he’d been holding protectively onto even as he washed, like he was afraid someone would spray him with it instead. Kevin, inconspicuously, follows him.

Dad just laughs, and nudges him a little. “Go get your reward,” he says, “Me and FP can finish up here.”

Jug’s dad makes an offended noise at being volunteered, but Archie says a quick, “Thanks dad,” and darts away before either of them can change their mind.

“Is there still the cotton candy kind left?” He asks after he jogs to the backyard.

Jug freezes where he’s sprawled out on the porch, and slowly pulls his cotton candy popsicle out of his mouth.

Archie gasps, betrayed. “Those’re my favorite kind!”

“You can have it, if you want,” Jug offers.

Ronnie makes a disgusted sound and Archie says no thank you, nasty, like he hasn’t eaten an Oreo off the floor himself before. Jug shrugs and shoves it back into his mouth.

There’s still orange cream left, which is his second favorite, so it works out okay.

“Okay,” Ronnie says halfway through her banana split, “Maybe you were right.”

“I know,” Jug says, “About what?”

Ronnie rolls her eyes, but says, “About the popsicle thing. They’re good.”

“And they don’t melt if you eat them fast enough,” Jug agrees, licking the stick clean and popping the ice chest open for a second one.

“Washing the car wasn’t too bad, either,” Kevin says.

“Those windows were _dirty_ ,” Ronnie says, “Like, mountain-trail-riding kind of dirty. But no, it wasn’t so bad.”

“I told you washing cars is fun,” Betty says, smiling around her popsicle.

“You never said that, you just said you haven’t done it in a while.”

“I said it was fun,” Betty repeats, “Or I at least put the vibe out there.”

“The vibe got to _me_ ,” Jug says.

“Yeah, that’s why you sprayed me with the hose Archie says sarcastically, “A vibe.”

Jug just grins, unapologetic. “I had to. I couldn’t waste an opportunity like that.”

Archie has to grin back. He likes making Jug smile like that. Ronnie shoots him a look like she knows exactly what he’s thinking, and it makes him flush under his wet shirt.

 _Loving Is Easy_  plays on the speaker propped in the grass, and Archie feels something warm settle in his chest as he finishes his popsicle and Jug tosses him a second one. Ronnie laces their fingers together and leans into him, humming along (she must’ve chosen this song), Jug shoots him a soft smile, and Archie feels remarkably at home.

 

It’s seven thirty five when the power finally comes back on. The only reason they know is because the radio out back suddenly starts playing music loud enough to drown out their own. Kevin jumps five feet into the air, at least, and then they’re scrambling up the porch and inside.

The fan in the living room is turning. The light is on. The glowing numbers of the clock on the oven are back! And glowing! Seven thirty five turns to seven thirty six and Archie’s heart _soars._

“Thank god,” Jug breathes behind him.

“I can _shower_ ,” Kevin says, sounding like he might cry.

“You could shower before,” Ronnie points out, but she sounds just as relieved.

“Yeah, but now I don’t have to feel guilty about it.”

“I can finally beat Jug at Mario kart,” Archie says.

Jug scoffs, “Never happened, never will.”

“I don’t know about that,” Dad says from the kitchen, “Arch has a strategy.”

“Pushing me over doesn’t count as a strategy.”

It’s like deja vu. No sympathy from anyone. Dad just laughs.

“You’re quick when you wanna be,” he says for the second time today. “Anyway. Now that I can use the griddle, does anyone want some grilled cheese?”

Maybe the day wasn’t so bad after all, Archie thinks, smiling at the way Jug leaps out of his shoes saying yes and Ronnie follows behind, eager but not _too_ eager.

“I do,” he says, the whir of the AC doing wonders for his health, and follows them to the kitchen.

 

**Author's Note:**

> this has some unintentionally heavy ronnie/archie/jug vibes to it (i was actually planning on a longer fic exploring tht relationship last fall but i lost all the data on my phone including my notes so i scrapped it) and i think im down? 
> 
> anyway [this](https://www.instagram.com/p/Blb0OHzgtD0/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link/) is the shirt jug is wearing bc he's dumb and thinks it's funny, and [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iiynitQi5js/) is the song they're listening to at the end. comment to help me get thru this hell on earth summer heat!


End file.
